Lifeline
by Miss Romance-Lover
Summary: One-shot. Ste is in rehab, but having mentioned Brendan to his sisters beforehand it sets a chain of events in motion.


Lifeline

"I'm not happy," Ste slurred after downing yet another can of lager in the Lomaxes living room. "I'm just good at pretending I am."

"Er, no you're not," Tegan replied, one eyebrow raised. "We could spot that a mile off."

"Right, I'm opening another bottle of wine," announced Leela, swaying slightly as she stood. "I can't have another deep and meaningful, not without a drink."

The three of them had had the month from hell, starting with Sam and Danny's deaths. Now Tegan was struggling to balance her studies with bringing up little Rose; Peri was acting up after discovering that Leela was her real mum, and Ste and John Paul's relationship was on the rocks for about the hundredth time.

So when Peri had gone to spend the night at Nico's and shortly afterwards Rose had _finally_ fallen asleep, they had raided their fridge for alcohol, put on a DVD and then ended up talking the whole way through it.

"I was happy once," Ste continued. "When I had _him_ and the kids."

Tegan and Leela exchanged looks. "Him?" Leela mouthed to her sister.

"Doug," Tegan mouthed back. Ste was oblivious to their silent communication.

"Then he had to go and get himself locked up," he was rambling.

The girls each gave him a sideways look. Neither of them had a clue who he was talking about now.

Leela was the first to ask. "Ste...who on earth are you on about?"

Ste put down his can and looked her straight in the eye. His expression hinted that the answer should be obvious, but neither one of his sisters had heard anything about this before.

"Who's locked up?" Tegan prompted.

"Brendan."

* * *

><p>Two months later, Ste and John Paul were over for good, and Ste had checked himself into rehab after becoming more and more reliant on cocaine. Leela and Tegan had used the money from their parents' life insurance to pay for their brother to get the help he needed.<p>

Ste had refused to say any more about Brendan after that night; and even that one and only conversation hadn't shed much light on him for the girls. It was only by chance, as Leela was tidying the things in his room the day after he'd left, that the name came up again.

She came across one of Leah's drawings – or maybe it was Lucas' handiwork – and in it there were four people. Two small figures, each labelled with the kids' names; and then there was Ste – 'Daddy'. The fourth person in the picture had a moustache. There were two eyes and a nose drawn on for a face, but no mouth. Just a moustache in it's place, coloured in with brown crayon.

Underneath this were the words 'Daddy Brendan'.

Leela sat on the bed, staring into space as she clutched the drawing. She had seen several family pictures by her niece over the last year, many of them including Ste and Doug with the kids. They had all been cute enough to look at; but there was something about this one that got to her. For a start, it had been hidden in a box at the back of Ste's wardrobe. He'd kept it safely tucked away so that no one else could know how important it obviously was to him.

Taking the piece of paper with her, she headed downstairs to find her phone.

"Hello," said a voice a few moments later.

"Amy, it's Leela. Ste's sister?"

"Oh, hi." Amy sounded civil but guarded.

"I just thought you should know...Ste's gone to stay at a rehab centre."

There was a long sigh. "Right. I suppose he asked you to tell me?"

"Actually he didn't. He went in yesterday – Tegan and I paid for it. And we wouldn't have done that if we really believed Ste was a lost cause."

Amy laughed harshly. "You haven't known him long enough, then."

"He's told us all about you, you know," Leela replied, surprising the other woman. "Told us about everything he put you through. I know he used to hit you, Amy. And I'm not making any excuses for him. But he must have managed to change because you kept him in your life. And in the kids' lives."

There was a moments' hesitation. "He did change," Amy agreed. "But this is different. This time he was wasted on drugs in front of Leah and Lucas. I can't have them around him any more."

"Look, Amy, I told Ste that this is his last chance. If he doesn't take it he'll be losing us as well. Tegan and I can't risk having him in our house if he's still using. We've got our own kids to think about. But I know he wants to sort himself out and get better. I could see it. Yesterday he tried to get himself arrested so he wouldn't keep hurting all the people he loves."

Amy was almost lost for words. _Almost_. "He's got himself into a real mess. Again."

Leela knew there was no point speaking when all she could do was agree.

"Years ago, when I was pregnant with Lucas and I'd finally managed to leave Ste, he nearly jumped off a roof because I told him to stay away. He ended up going to anger management sessions to prove himself." Amy's voice was distant, like she was lost in the memory of a completely different life.

"A few months after Lucas was born my sister was killed. I couldn't cope and Ste helped my dad take care of the kids while I...I went away. I didn't feel like I knew how to be a mum any more so I just left them to it."

Leela walked over to the sofa and dropped down onto it. This was turning out to be a day of multiple revelations. "He never told me that."

Amy didn't reply. Apparently Ste's problems had got her thinking about her own mistakes, and she seemed to be acknowledging that things may not be as black and white as she had first thought. The other woman cleared her throat.

"If Ste gets himself clean like he's promised, would you think about letting him see Leah and Lucas again? Not to be with them on his own, I understand that. You'd be there, and _I_ could be too if that would make you feel less anxious about it. I know we don't really know each other..."

"Leela," Amy cut her off. "Let's just...call this a maybe, okay?"

It was only as she was about to say goodbye that Leela remembered her second reason for calling.

"Can I ask you something else? What do you know about Brendan?"

The line went so quiet that she wondered whether Amy had hung up before she could hear the question. Had she known all the history about this man, she would have understood the reaction.

"I know enough," came the eventual blunt response. "Take my advice and don't involve yourself in it. It won't do a thing to help Ste."

Despite the warning, Leela decided to see what else she could find out. Never one to be told what to do, she headed over to The Dog, where Nancy was behind the bar. They weren't exactly friends, but neither had they ever come to blows, and given that Nancy was one of the most straight-talking women in the village, Leela thought her the ideal person to ask.

"You've lived here for years, haven't you?"

Nancy put a hand on her hip, eyeing the woman in surprise. "Er, hello to you too, Leela."

"Sorry. Hi. Having a bit of a weird day, that's all." Sitting down, she tried again. "But you have lived here a long time?"

"Yes. Why?"

"So you knew Brendan, then?"

Now Nancy's eyes widened. "Well, _that_ I wasn't expecting. I knew him, yes. Not as well as your brother did, of course."

"I'm starting to realise that. What happened to him?"

By the time she left the pub, Leela had heard what she thought was the full story. Little did she know that there was far more to it than what Nancy Osborne or anyone else in the village thought or said.

This much she _had_ gathered, though: the man had been a huge part of her brother's life. And clearly he still was.

* * *

><p>On Day 21 of his 28 day rehab stay, Ste woke up thinking about Brendan. Every day he was being told how well he was doing; and the truth was he had stopped craving the cocaine after the first few weeks. Instead he found himself obsessing over the only other addiction he'd ever had. He had spent the last year and a half trying <em>not <em>to think about the Irishman, but now that he was practically in hiding without any distractions, there was nothing he could do about it.

Brendan Brady was a drug that intoxicated his mind.

The day before, Ste had had a call from Cheryl. He hadn't spoken to her in months – long before everything had started to fall apart again. It turned out that Nancy had called her, told her about his drug problem. Cheryl must have called his sisters and asked for the number to the centre, although she didn't elaborate on it.

She had sounded distraught. It had thrown him, and he had barely managed to utter more than a few mumbled responses. He was relieved when she finally ended the conversation, although she did promise to call again soon.

Ste wasn't sure he would be able to cope with her offer of support. She was just another reminder of the future he had lost with Brendan.

When he first went for help over the drugs, things had just ended with John Paul and he was convinced that he had just lost the very last of everything he cared about. But days and weeks into the therapy sessions – the ones he'd at first called 'pointless' and 'useless' – something seemed to click within him. John Paul had been good to him, but Ste wasn't a mess just because they weren't together any more.

To an extent, he cared about John Paul, but since getting his head that bit clearer he had realised that he hadn't really loved him. Not in the same way that he would always love Brendan. If he and John Paul had ever been a perfect match, then Ste wouldn't be sitting in rehab now. He would never have been unhappy enough to get there in the first place.

Every bad thing that had happened to him had led him here: his mum's death by his own hands; losing the kids more times than he could count, losing Doug. Then his dad being killed just a year after coming into his life.

But he knew the day he'd lost Brendan to a life sentence was what had sent him over the edge.

And not only that, but having to keep the truth of it to himself while everyone around him had gossiped; hearing people say they'd always known that Brendan was a monster. _That_ had stayed with him long after it became old news.

Ste stroked the silver cross that hung around his neck. Two years ago Brendan had left it with him while he lay unconscious in hospital. He'd later told Ste that the necklace was supposed to be a symbol of God's protection.

He hadn't believed in God back then, and he still didn't. But he continued to cradle the delicate cross in his hand, like it was some kind of lifeline.

* * *

><p>Brendan gripped the tatty prison phone, his knuckles white. His sister's voice was outwardly calm, but she was distressed, there was no doubt about it. He knew her too well.<p>

"What is it? What's happened?"

"It's about Ste," Cheryl replied, rather shakily in anticipation of how this was going to affect her brother.

Brendan could barely breathe, his entire body frozen in a fear he'd never known before. And he'd known plenty. "Tell me."

"He's in rehab. For drugs."

There was a sense of relief at first. Steven wasn't dead. But then the reality set in.

"Drugs? _No_..."

"It's cocaine. I'm sorry Bren but it's true. I spoke to him yesterday. Not that he said much. He sounded...well, he sounded quite detached, to be honest."

Brendan had a sudden flash, an image of Steven, _his_ Steven, pale and thin - and he'd been skinny enough beforehand. A broken Steven was something he had been faced with many times in the past, mostly of the Irishman's own doing. But _this_ wasn't supposed to have happened. His life should have been nothing but richer for Brendan's disappearance from his life.

"Ye told me he was happy," he accused. "Ye said he had a new family, why didn't they stop him? Why didn't anyone _help him_?"

Cheryl sighed. "I hadn't heard from him in a while. I know I should have called him sooner but...anyway, Ste's dad died a couple of months ago – his step-mum too. It's his sisters that arranged for him to go into rehab, Nancy told me. They used their parents' life insurance pay out to get him a place. Sounds like he's got some good people around him, at least."

"Anyone's better than me."

"Nobody said that, Bren."

"I know. _I'm_ saying it."

"You think Ste doesn't need ye?"

"I think it'd be too late even if he did, Chez."

There was a beat of silence, then: "Not necessarily."

Brendan felt his stomach drop at his sister's statement. "What have ye done?"

"Nothing yet!"

"Where are ye?"

She didn't answer.

"_Cheryl_."

"I'm in Chester. I was about to go to the police station, but I thought if I didn't talk to ye first ye might never forgive me for going behind your back."

Fear gripped him for the second time. "Please tell me ye weren't about to confess."

"I've thought about that every day since you took the blame for me, Brendan. But I can't have my baby in prison, so."

Brendan felt that he'd missed a step. "What did ye..."

"Ye heard right. I'm pregnant."

It was everything she'd ever wanted, and knowing that caused emotion to swell inside him. "Chez. That's...that's good, that's great news. I'm happy for ye. Just one question. What the hell are ye doing even thinking about going near the police?"

"I want to hand over someone else's confession. That USB stick with ye, Walker and...and _him_. Ye lied to me, ye said ye were gonna tell the police what our da' did to ye, but ye never did, did ye?" Cheryl was tearful now. "Even when it turned out that no one else heard your other confessions, ye still didn't tell anyone why he deserved to die."

"I _couldn't_."

"Brendan, once upon a time ye thought ye couldn't tell _me_. But we got through that, didn't we?"

"Chez, please," he could feel himself crumbling; if there wasn't a wall for him to lean against while on the phone, he was certain he'd have collapsed by now. The only way he got through each day was by not thinking about any of this.

Picturing Steven, though – the healthy, happy Steven he chose to remember – that was the only thing that gave him strength.

"I get that ye don't want to save yourself, but this isn't just about ye, Bren. I got to run off with Nate and play at happily ever after, but Ste lost _his_ happy ever after. With ye. Do ye really think ye can carry on without him forever?"

Brendan shook his head, even though he knew his sister couldn't see him. "I can't just walk back into Steven's life after everything he's been through. It'd be selfish."

"No," Cheryl replied. "Doing nothing when there's a way out is selfish. Especially now, when the only man you've ever loved needs you more than ever."

* * *

><p>On Day 26, Ste was feeling the lowest he'd felt since starting his rehab treatment. It wasn't that he specifically wanted cocaine; but he <em>needed <em>something to distract him.

He only had two days left before he had to go home and face everyone, and prove that he could stay clean. And right now he was sure he would never be strong enough.

His sisters had phoned every day, and he'd even had one awkward phone call from Amy, who had tried to be encouraging while promising him nothing. Cheryl, however, hadn't been in touch again since calling the week before. He didn't know what to make of that.

In the afternoon, he walked out of a group therapy session when one of the other addicts started sticking their nose in his business. If he'd had the strength, Ste would never have let the guy get away with it.

A few hours later he was summoned to the lounge area and told he had a visitor. For weeks he had watched as almost every other person in the place had been visited by friends or family members, while he sat alone and scared. It was the way he had needed it to be at the time, having refused to have any guests when he'd first arrived; but after a while he regretted making the decision.

Ste got to the door of the lounge and was left alone, wondering why Leela or Tegan hadn't told him they were coming. But when he walked into the room he nearly fell over, terrified that he was finally hallucinating from the drug withdrawal.

"You're not here," he said quietly, closing his eyes as if to remove the image in front of him.

"Steven," said the man standing on the other side of the room.

"No..."

"I _am_ here," Brendan spoke softly, his face solemn but his eyes determined. When Ste said nothing, he started making his way towards the younger man.

Ste slowly opened his eyes to find that Brendan hadn't vanished, and for the first time he allowed himself to take in the man's appearance. His dark hair was tidy but in need of a cut, and he now had a thick beard instead of a signature moustache. He looked good with it, but the way he held himself told a different story.

Watching as Brendan got closer to him, Ste found that his legs could no longer keep him upright and he clutched hold of the door frame and slid to the ground. He wrapped his arms tightly around his knees and waited.

"Can I...?" the older man reached out to touch him, and Ste couldn't help but flinch.

"How are you here?"

"I was granted bail this morning. It was down to Chez, she went to the police with a recording about what Seamus...what he did to me. There'll be another trial."

Ste's head was spinning. "So what are you doing _here_?"

Brendan sat down beside him, back leaning against the wall as he spoke. "What am I doing here? Don't ye know, Steven? I'm here to be with ye."

Neither of them spoke for some time, and then finally Ste turned his head to face him. "You left me."

"I know."

"How do I know you won't do it again? I'm a mess, Brendan. I can't be what you want."

"You're _always_ what I want. Doesn't matter what happens. There is _nothing_ ye can do that will make me stop loving ye, remember?"

Ste choked out a sob, and it was clear that he'd been holding it in for several minutes. Brendan held out an arm for the other man to slot into, and after some hesitation he fell weakly against the Irishman's side.

"A scrawny, stubborn little council rat once told me he would never give up on me when all I wanted to do was give up on myself. Well I'm not gonna give up on ye either, Steven. Not ever."

One of the men in charge at the centre opened the door to the lounge, and Ste sat up and rubbed at his eyes.

"Ste," said the man. "It's time to say goodbye now."

Both he and Brendan nodded, and the other man waited outside, giving them another moment alone.

"If I wasn't in rehab right now I'd be shouting and calling you all sorts for making me live without you."

"I know," Brendan replied. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't. Not here. Just..." Ste leaned forward to kiss him, needing to make this something real to cling onto. Brendan kissed him back just as urgently until the younger man pulled away.

By the time he got back to his room, he still didn't know whether to believe in what had just happened.

When Brendan arrived to pick him up two days later, Ste knew that nothing was ever going to be like it was before. Before rehab _or _Brendan's imprisonment. But knowing that they had each other had never been enough back then; whereas now it was everything and more.

"Come on," Brendan said gently, taking his bags from him at the door. "It's gonna be okay."

"How do you know?"

"Because I love ye, that's how. And ye love me."

The corners of Ste's mouth rose as he smiled for the first time in a long time at the familiarity of the other man's words. "That's all that matters," he finished the sentiment, stepping outside with him to face the future.


End file.
